


Sun In My Eyes

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Magic, Art Teacher Lily, Artist Remus, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Remus, Demisexual Character, Demisexual Sirius, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Genderfluid Sirius, M/M, PTSD, References to self-harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Therapist James, abelist language, art model Sirius, colour blind Sirius, colour blind character, manic phases, mentions of past suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus Lupin struggles with a lot of things in life.  Bipolar disorder, being poor, and working as an artist.  He has a strict routine and plans to keep it that way with the help of his best friends Lily and James until one day James' best mate from school shows up and turns everything upside down.  When art model Sirius enters Remus' life like a whirlwind, nothing will ever be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun In My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Based on two prompts: Was wondering if you could work your magic on this prompt- Sirius as a nude life model for an art class... Remus an art student? Sirius being confident and perhaps a little over the top,attractive. Remus being shy, awkward etc.
> 
> And: i know you're swamped and have lots of works to write but i was wondering if you could write about bipolar remus when you have time?
> 
> I'm not personally familiar with Bipolar disorder- but I've done loads of research and based Remus' bipolar on Bipolar I where there are extreme highs and extreme lows. The Remus in this story is taking medication to help control the disorder--but it's not perfect and he still has episodes. There are references to past self-harm and a lot of self-deprecation which he has to work through. I also reference Cognitive Behavioral Therapy--something I researched and actually spoke to someone in my office about who happens to have bipolar disorder--and she's the one who introduced me to the concept of using code words to describe where she was at mentally for the day, which helped her husband know what types of triggers to avoid. I know that isn't helpful for everyone who has bipolar, so please note this isn't meant to represent the disorder as a whole since it does come in so many forms.
> 
> Feel free to let me know if I've got anything glaringly wrong. 
> 
> Hope everyone is having a lovely new year!

He woke to the sounds of knocking on the door, and his head felt like it weighed a dozen stone, like he’d been out drinking for days, but he hadn’t. No, he was coming off a crash, and he was fairly certain he’d spent half the night crying. Scrubbing his face, he knew the knock was Lily, and he knew if he didn’t answer, she’d be using her key to get in, and she’d be upset.

So swinging his legs off the sofa that was—really—too damned uncomfortable to be sleeping on, Remus Lupin shuffled to the door, unbolted it, and swung it open. Her smile was relieved, as he’d assumed it would be. Her shoulder slumped a bit, and she brushed back a stray bit of red hair. “Hey. What is it today?”

Remus stepped aside to let her in as he assessed himself. After years of therapy, they’d developed a system to help him get by. It had been created by James when he was still at Uni getting his Ph.D. and working on CBT. Remus suffered from bi-polar disorder, bi-polar I if he was being specific about it, which left him with extreme, almost euphoric highs, and violent crashes which had led to instances of extreme self-harm, and twice in his younger life—attempted suicide. He’d tried medications, and they did alright to help him maintain, but several times a month he would be subjected to his highs and lows.

The CBT therapy had worked the best. It allowed for him to assess his state of mind, give his mates code-words and it allowed them to avoid certain triggers. Today he was feeling alright, mellow enough, which meant likely a high was coming in a week or so.

“Autumn.”

Lily breathed a bit. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something, and you’re going to say no but…”

“Lils,” he groaned, walking to the kitchen to flick on the kettle. He rummaged about his cupboards, pleased to find he still had a decent stock of tea and biscuits which he brought out for the both of them. “Seriously, if this is one of your projects…”

“You were the one complaining that you didn’t have a muse, and I’ve landed someone really good.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”

“James’ best mate from school.”

“That bloke he’s always going on about? Some barmy name?”

“Sirius,” Lily said. “He’s not a bloke though. He’s…well…” She sratched at the side of her nose. “You know the term genderfluid?”

“I don’t live in a cave,” he complained, plonking the tea into the mug. The kettle clicked off and he poured the steaming water over the bags, then handed one over. She reached for the sugar bowl, giving him a long, calculating look. “Does Sirius use masculine pronouns?”

“Most of the time. He lets us know if he’s on to something different,” she said with a wave of her hand. “He’s less fussed about what people call him and more fussed about nicking clothes from my wardrobe.”

Remus laughed a little, as Lily was well known for her impeccable—and often times very expensive—taste in clothing. “Well hard to blame him.”

She preened a bit, stroking the side of her cashmere jumper that probably cost more than his monthly wages. “Anyway, he’s…well he’s very good looking, and I think he might spark inspiration.”

Remus rubbed his temple. “I’m not sure I’m up for being in a classroom setting.”

“It’s not really a classroom, you know that. And you’re not going to have to pay for it, and you can come and go as you please. Honestly, come in with my beginners, okay? That way you can ignore what I’m going on about with technique, and you can just…go wherever he takes you.”

It had been ages since anything had really sparked Remus’ fancy when it came to art. He was struggling, living off what little trust he’d been left by his parents when they passed the year before, along with the sale of their house and property. When he was inspired, his work was something to behold, and he had a small online shop where he sold prints of his previous works. But he’d hit a plateau over the last few months and his swings had seemed to be getting worse and worse. Part of it was stress, he knew, but it was a vicious cycle. He’d stress about work, about inspiration, about money. The stress would kick off a swing into high or low, which would rob him of the ability to create. Which would stress him out again.

It felt never ending, and he lived just on the edge of a pit of despair.

Not always. But lately.

“Alright, when’s he coming in?”

“Every day for the next week. So you pick and choose. A couple days it’s clothing, working on certain perspectives and body shapes. After that he’ll be nude modelling, but I reckon you won’t have an issue there.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I am a professional, no matter the state of my life.”

“Never meant to suggest…”

He waved his hand. “It’s fine, love. I’ll come in tomorrow, okay? In fact, if you could take some of my supplies with you now, I won’t have to cart them on the tube and my life will be exponentially easier.”

She snorted a laugh, but agreed and when she took her leave of him, the back seat of her car was stocked with a few pieces of canvas, and one of his long, wooden supply boxes.

He was grateful for his friends, honestly. Friends who understood him. Who understood there was no cure, that this was his life and he was managing it as best he could. It left him lonely on the best days though, when he thought about how they went home to each other and he only had this. This shitty little flat with his threadbare sofa, and his old bed, and the only thing left of his parents were photos and memories. But those things were all his, and that was something.

*** 

It was getting chilly, closer to the winter holidays and Remus was bundled in his heaviest jumper made of some ridiculously expensive wool Lily had found online, and his heaviest coat. He sauntered into Lily’s classroom, his boots which reached mid-calf untied and flopping over, his mismatched socks poking over the top. His hair was a mess, a beanie jammed over his curls because he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, though he’d managed a shower and brushed his teeth, and even choked down two meals before the class began.

Remus had taken Lily’s class a handful of times. They’d met his first year of Uni during his art class. He’d been doing really well on his meds that year, and had been feeling great about himself. He made decent friends, was social, and life felt good.

Then his brain decided to go and get used to his dosage and things began to creep up. He’d been in class during one of his highs, feeling manic, hadn’t eaten in days and looked like he’d gone mad. Instead of turning away, she’d offered to have him stay over at her flat and sat with him all night as he rambled on and created sketch after sketch after sketch.

Three nights later when she found him bleeding from his forearms and burning his sketchbooks in his bathtub, she called in James. Instead of turning away, they asked how they could help.

It wasn’t until after he attempted to swallow a month’s worth of his medication that they started paying closer attention.

When Remus was feeling particularly low, or calm—depending on the time of month—he would sit in Lily’s class. She taught art at a community centre which catered to all sorts. The classes weren’t expensive, really, and she deserved to be paid more, but she insisted she enjoyed doing it for the thrill of seeing people love what she loved.

And Remus could understand that.

He set his easel up by the window where it got the best light, and grinned at her as she began to prepare the area for the model to sit. Remus threw a sheet of canvas over the main one, and pinned it there. He pulled out his charcoal and began to sketch Lily, just getting the feel of his mood, the feel of the room. He’d done her enough times he could sketch her blind and it would be a perfect likeness, but he was feeling good that day.

He managed to capture the lights and shadows playing off her face, and he felt pride surging up in his chest. This might have been a really, really good idea. Taking this class.

He was just adding a bit to the background when he felt a presence behind him, and he whirled round to see a strange face. A beautiful one, but strange. The person was short, thin and lithe with curving hips and an expansive chest. They were wearing tight black leggings, a tunic-like, white blouse, and grey furry sweater boots that stopped mid-calf.

But the most striking thing about this person was their face. All angles and sharp edges, cheekbones to die for, and a haughty pout to their mouth. They looked of Asian descent, their eyes very sharp, and the most unusual grey colour— like storm clouds over the sea. When they smiled, which they did almost immediately when Remus looked at them, their teeth were white, turned in at the incisors just enough to make the grin interesting, and almost sharp in the canines. A small laugh bubbled from their lips.

“That’s really good. Has Lily seen this?”

Remus swallowed, trying to find his voice. “Erm. Yes. Well no, not this one. But she’s seen me do hundreds of her before.”

“You must be Remus, then?”

“And you must be Sirius,” Remus said with realisation of who he was talking to, extending a hand.

Sirius’ grin widened, and his hand darted out. Remus had just enough time to get a glimpse of the long, slender fingers that could probably work magic on piano keys. His nails were polished a purple-glitter colour which fit him, really, and matched the purple tint he had smeared across his lips. Remus noticed eyeliner as well, not that he needed it. Not that Sirius needed anything to enhance his face. He was the definition of beauty.

“I see my reputation precedes me.”

Remus snorted a bit as he drew away, picking up his charcoal again. “James talks about you a lot.”

“Mm, does he now? Hardly a surprise, you know. We’re very best friends. I've just moved back to London a few weeks ago, so he's bound to be excited.”

Remus laughed. "It doesn't take much to get James excited."

Sirius grinned, then reached out with his slender hand and rubbed his thumb along a crescent-shaped scar on the side of Remus' neck. "That looks like a moon."

Remus flushed, reaching up to touch it. "Ah. I suppose."

"Hm." Sirius looked at it again, then shrugged. "Anyway Moony..."

Remus blinked. "Moony?"

Sirius grinned at him, his teeth shining a bit. "It's fitting. I like it." 

"I've never really had a nickname before," Remus mused.

"Well now you do. Moonbeam." He grinned and winked unabashedly when Remus stared at him.

Remus huffed, but grinned just a little as he turned back to his sketch and made a few more lines, using his thumb to smudge some of the shadows round Lily’s hair. He swiped his fingers on his trousers, then set the easel aside. “So, have you done this sort of thing before?”

“Modelling?” Sirius shrugged, swiping his hair back away from his forehead. “Few times, mostly for Lils though.”

“Talking about me?” Lily said, sliding up.

“Just how often you like to get me naked,” Sirius said, waggling his eyebrows.

“You are disgustingly full of yourself,” she admonished. She glanced over at Remus’ sketch and grinned. “Gorgeous as ever. Can I keep it?”

“Course.” He shifted it over to her, and she clutched it like it was worth something. “So have you tea at all, love? I could really use a cuppa before we start.”

“Oh same,” Sirius put in.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Only because I love you both. Play nice now.”

“Don’t I always?” Sirius asked with a small pout, and Remus fought back the urge to run his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip.

It was more than just an art thing. Sirius was painfully good looking, and Remus felt a forbidden coil of desire in his belly, one he never gave into. But he could also see why Lily used him for reference. He had amazing angles, the cut of his jaw just short of perfection. His long, slender fingers begged to have them fill pages upon pages in a sketchbook.

He found himself staring at the slightly oval nails, licking his lips, then looked up to see Sirius watching him. “Sorry,” he said with a small cough. “You have nice hands.”

“Mm, do I?” Sirius lifted his nails to inspect them, then shrugged. “You want to get a closer look before we begin?”

Remus gulped, but took the invitation to heart. With careful fingers, he pinched Sirius’ chin, turning his head from side to side, tilting it against the light. Sirius wore an unreadable expression, but there was heat in those grey eyes and he was malleable under Remus’ careful touch.

“Do I impress you?” he asked in a very soft voice.

Yanked from his head, Remus blinked, then dropped his hand like he was touching something burning. “Ah. Er. Yes. You’re made for this sort of thing, I think.”

Sirius laughed. “If only my dear mother could hear you say that. Of course she’d never be inclined to agree, but it would be nice to see the look on her face.”

Before Remus could respond, Lily was back with two cups of tea. “Honey for you, love,” she said, handing Remus’ over.

He took it with a sigh of thanks, and sipped the dark brew. “You’re wonderful.”

“I know.” She reached out, palming his cheek before glancing at her wrist watch. “Bollocks. Class is starting in five. Sirius, are you wearing that today?”

“Thought I might. I was rather fond of my reflection this morning.” He spun a bit, jutting out one hip, and Remus fought the urge to lick his lips again.

“It’ll do,” Lily said after a moment. “Wear a more fitting shirt tomorrow, though. But it’ll be good practice. This.” She tugged on the hem of the tunic, and he rolled his eyes.

“Lily…”

“This isn’t about fashion,” she scolded. “Now, I’ve got everything set up for you, so go find your comfortable spot.” 

Sirius winked at Remus. “Have fun today, yeah?” Then he flounced off with a small flourish to the stool Lily had set in the middle of the room.

Remus glanced at her. “He’s a bit…”

“Mm, isn’t he?” she said, staring at Sirius for a long moment. “He’s a good sort though, you know? I mean, a little overwhelming at times, but he’s…he’s not what he appears to be.”

“Lot of that going round,” Remus said, glancing down at his hands. He could see the specks of scars across his knuckles from when things were very bad, and he let out a small sigh. He glanced up when Lily’s hand covered his own, and she smiled carefully. “I’m alright. I promise.”

“Okay.” She peeled herself away, taking a few steps back. “If you need to end class early, don’t hesitate. You can even leave your things and I’ll get them sorted.”

“Thanks,” he said from behind a breath.

Before they could talk any more, the other students started to arrive, and Remus got ready to begin. With bated breath, he watched as Sirius wandered over to the middle of the room and took instructions from Lily. He planted himself carefully on the stool, then before Lily called for the class’ attention, Sirius met Remus’ eyes and gave him a wink. Feeling his heart flutter in his chest, Remus did his best to turn off all emotions and give himself into the art. It was what he did best. It was one of the things that could save him. His hand gripped the pencil, a slight tremble to his fingers, but he was ready. 

*** 

He hadn’t anticipated the level of frustration that came with being in a class. Not because they were distracting, but because he was restricted, and Remus had never been able to create with restrictions. Art was a trigger—it could send him manic, it could send him spiralling, but it was still everything he was. And not being able to grab Sirius by the face and run his fingers along the contours of his jaw, to examine the lines on his palms or the crook of his elbow the way he wanted to…the way he _needed_ to, affected him.

He was trembling as the class neared its end, and before Lily stepped in, Remus hurried out, heading for the washroom the students used to clean up their pants. The door slammed hard, the metal clang echoing, and he grabbed a porcelain sink, bowing his head forward and taking a few deep breaths.

Several moments later, he heard the squeak of hinges and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Stormy,” he said.

There was a pause, and a voice that was very much not Lily asked, “Stormy?”

Unable to stop himself, Remus’ head whipped round to land on Sirius who was leant against the doorframe, one hand clutched tight round his middle, the other pulling at the bobble at the end of his plait. His hair fell down in soft waves, and he carded his fingers through it.

“I thought you were Lily.”

Sirius’ grey eyes regarded him for several long moments. “Would that have made sense to her?”

Remus nodded, his jaw tensing against the desire to explain himself. But the last thing he wanted to see was that perfect face fall in pity or disappointment. “It’s a long story. Is there something you needed?”

“You flew out of there like a bat out of hell, Moons. Was I that horrible?”

Remus sputtered a little, dragging a hand down his face. “Christ, no. It’s…it wasn’t you. Well, it was you, but it wasn’t you, _you_.”

“That makes even less sense,” Sirius said with a very small chuckle.

Remus dragged his fingers through his curls, knowing he probably looked ridiculous, but he didn’t care right then. “I’m not a beginner artist. And I’m…I got frustrated. I need more…” He waved his hand up and down Sirius’ body.

“Skin? Because you know I’m doing nude on Thursday and…”

“No,” Remus said in a rush. “No I…when I draw, when I paint I like to know my subject. Every curve, every contour. I can’t…I can’t see that with you just sitting on a stool. When I can’t touch you I…”

His words stopped when the door opened abruptly and Sirius pulled a furious face, turning round and slamming it back. He flicked the lock, then turned back to Remus and with swift, careful steps, closed the distance between them. He reached his hands out, grabbing one of Remus’ wrists, and put the back of his hand against Remus’ open palm.

“I’m all yours.”

Remus swallowed thickly, trying to keep his composure. But it was next to impossible. He was already getting lost in the heat of their skin together. His fingers ran along the lines of Sirius’ palm—and god there were so many, so many more than most people had—and he pressed the pad of his thumb into the bend of Sirius’ wrist.

Catching himself, Remus took a breath and shook his head. “It’s…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it.”

“I didn’t think you had. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Remus nodded, dropping Sirius’ hand though he felt the loss profoundly. “You’re inspirational. I’m sure you know this. I’m sure you have artists begging for you.” His hand went up, briefly touching the cut of Sirius’ jaw before he yanked his hand away. “I don’t think I can finish this class.”

“What can I do?” Sirius asked, his voice very soft. “I want you to draw me. Paint me. Whatever.”

“Why?”

Sirius blinked at him, as though the question surprised him. “Because you’re amazing. Lily showed me your work. What she’s got at hers, what James has in his office. The gifts you’ve given them. Remus…your talent astounds me.”

Blinking, Remus shook his head. “I’m not…”

“I’m confident in my assessment, Moonshine. What I want to know is, what do you need from me? Private modelling? I can come by yours and…”

“I can’t afford that,” Remus said in a rush. “I don’t work. I sell what I can online and I do alright but I know what Lily pays and…”

“A painting,” Sirius said. “Paint me something. Sketch me something, I don’t care. Even trade, yeah?”

Remus’ eyebrows flew up. “You’re not being serious.”

“I am,” he replied, his mouth quirking up with what Remus assumed was a constrained effort to not make a pun. “Please, Remus.”

Blinking, Remus realised he couldn’t turn this down. He wanted it, more than anything. “I er…”

Before he could properly answer, there was a soft knock on the door. “Re? You in there?”

“Just having a quick chat, love,” Sirius called out. “Two minutes.”

“Behave yourselves. Everyone’s gone, so you can come out any time.”

Remus held his breath until her footsteps faded, then he turned back to Sirius. “Alright. If you’re really interested in this, you can come over to mine. It’s going to be invasive though. And rude.”

Sirius laughed, putting one hand on Remus’ shoulder and his thumb darted out, tracing along the half-moon scar again. “Looking forward to it.”

*** 

They exchanged numbers, then Remus went home and by the time he stepped through the door, he was in the clouds. His body was humming with desire to create, his mind wandering and happy. He knew it was dangerous to give in, to let himself get lost in the up because the crashing down was always devastating. But he couldn’t resist the pull.

Sirius had overwhelmed him.

Remus went into the small bedroom he’d converted into a studio, turned up all the lights, and set up several canvas. He pulled out paints and charcoal and pencils and worked on each. His fingers were trembling with the desire to go, to bring Sirius’ image to life as best he could. He drew his eyes. Then his smile. Those long fingers which had touched him. He recreated the palms with the spider-webbed lines, and the oval, polished nails.

He wasn’t paying attention to anything but the art. Hours passed. Then a day. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten. A few cups of tea sustained him until he started to feel his knees giving way and he knew it was coming.

Slumping against the wall, he put his head against the door jamb and closed his eyes. His entire body was aching, and he was slipping into the blackness.

Remus was unaware of the body entering his flat, and then into his studio. But strong arms lifted him to his feet and cupped his face.

“What did you do?”

“James?” Remus’ eyes refused to focus, but he could see the blurry outline of glasses and wild hair. “What are you doing here?”

“Your mobile has been dead for a day and a half. Did you skip your meds?”

Remus felt his stomach caving and his eyes filled with tears. “I’m such a fuck up. I…”

“Shower,” James said. He eased Remus into the bathroom and gave him a small shove inside. He switched on the water, keeping the temperature lukewarm. “Can you manage it on your own?”

Remus licked his too-dry lips and began to pull on the hem of his shirt. “I think so, yeah.”

“Keep the door unlocked. I’m going to sort out food and tea, and your meds. Got it?”

Remus wanted to shout at him, to scream that he wasn’t a child, that he could take care of himself, but it was a lie. Who knows how long he’d have gone on. Who knows what would have happened once he’d woken up from the studio floor. He had scars to show what had happened in the past, cascading up and down his forearms bearing the marks of his angry, self-hating past. He hated that he needed James and Lily still. That he wasn’t able to do this on his own.

How pathetic.

And to think for just a split second he’d wanted Sirius. But to subject someone that wonderful to this life…

He never would. He wasn’t that cruel.

The shower was quick, a fast lather and rinse, and he found a towel and his dressing gown waiting for him. He shrugged it on, padding to the lounge where James was waiting by the sofa, a small tray with a sandwich and cup of tea sat next to his pill bottle.

Remus’ stomach roiled at the thought of food, but his friend would not be deterred and he was able to stomach enough to take his meds, and then he curled up against the sofa cushion. James pulled the duvet up round his shoulders and sank down to the floor near Remus’ head. Long fingers carded into his curls, detangling them gently.

“Sirius said you and him agreed on private sessions.”

Remus blinked, then gave a nod as the meds began to kick in. “If you think it’s a bad idea…”

“I don’t. Sirius and I have been friends since we were eleven for a good reason. He’s a decent sort. A bit…overwhelming at times, I suppose. But he likes you. And I think you’d get on with him.”

Remus mumbled against his pillow, his tongue too heavy now to form words. He lost himself in the sensations of James’ fingers rubbing against his scalp. He drifted off with the feeling that he was lucky, and he wasn’t sure he deserved it at all.

*** 

Remus woke the next morning to the smell of food being cooked, and he eased himself up into a sitting position. He couldn’t remember what time James had gotten him up from the studio floor, but his body felt relaxed enough that he was sure he slept at least ten hours.

Feeling an ache in his back from the sofa, he stretched a little, then wandered into the kitchen where he found Lily minding a pain of scrambled eggs. She turned when he entered, giving him a wide, sunny smile.

“Morning! James has appointments all day so I decided to pop by before class.” She tipped the eggs onto a plate, then passed him a mug of tea already steeped, and a plate of toast.

Remus eased himself into his chair and frowned at her. “I appreciate it, but you know I am capable of making my own breakfast.”

“I know,” she said flippantly. “This is a special occasion.”

Remus swallowed a mouthful of the pleasantly hot tea, fixing her with a hard stare. “Is it, now?”

“You could stand to look a little intrigued at least, Remus. I mean, I’m only about to completely blow your mind.”

By the look on her face, Remus couldn’t help his laugh and he set his mug down rather primly. “Alright, Lily. What is your special occasion?”

Her eyes all-but twinkled as she leant her head in toward him. “You, my best friend in all the world, are about to become an uncle.”

Remus froze. “I…what?”

“I’m pregnant. I’m up the fucking duff. Thirteen weeks gone!”

A myriad of emotions hit him all at once, but he clung on to happy. Happy because James and Lily had been trying for a year now, and even with fertility appointments, it had been a struggle. But she was beaming—glowing, even—and he couldn’t help but be happy for her.

“Oh my god, Lily,” he breathed, and let her yank him into a hug, pressing several kisses to his cheeks.

“You’re going to be an uncle, Remus! I…I’m…” She swiped at her eyes and he felt his throat going a bit tight.

“I’m so happy for you,” he breathed, cupping her cheeks. “When are you due?”

“July. I got to hear the heartbeat at the last exam, and the next one I’ll get to see the little bean. This is going to be my last block of classes, then James and I decided I’d stay home for a year or two.”

They eased themselves back into the chairs, and Remus grabbed his cup of tea again. “How’d James take it?”

“Oh like you’d expect,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “He laughed. Then he went really still, eyes like saucers. I thought for a moment he might vomit, but then he started laughing and crying at the same time. Then he walked out of the house and turned a few circles in the front garden before coming back inside, sitting at the table and saying over and over, ‘Oh god, I’m going to be a dad.’ So…typical James.”

Remus snickered into his tea, his head shaking. “I can’t believe he can function at appointments all day.”

Lily shrugged. “He’s learnt compartmentalising over the years. He’ll go back to being a mess tonight when he gets home. Which reminds me! We’re going out for celebratory drinks and you must come out. Me, James, Sirius, and Pete. And you won’t be alone because I won’t be drinking either.”

Remus hesitated, but knew he could pull it together long enough to celebrate with his best mates. “Yeah, alright. For a little while.”

Lily looked at him for a long time, then reached across the table to squeeze his wrist. “Nothing’s going to change, Remus. I mean yes, there will be a baby. But you’re occupying the same space in our lives. Alright? Nothing will ever change that.”

Remus swallowed, thought about arguing because things _should_ change when you had a baby. They couldn’t be running to his to count his pills and make sure he hadn’t slipped and missed one, or that he hadn’t lost himself to a downward spiral. But he let himself just take the comfort because he knew Lily and James, and knew they wouldn’t hear another thing about it.

“I know,” he finally said, then turned his palm up to squeeze her hand back. “I love you.”

Lily beamed. “I love you too, Remus. Come to class today, alright? Sirius will be there, it’s the last segment with clothes on. We can all leave together after to celebrate. And you can work out a time to have him over since he couldn’t get through with text.”

Remus blinked, then realised his mobile had been off the entire time. “Does he know?”

“Yes,” Lily said carefully. “He’s known the entire time. James talked about you ages ago, has been bigging you up to him since…well we met.”

Remus’ cheeks went pink. “Oh I…right.”

“If anyone can understand, love, it’s Sirius. He’s…had a past. He deals with things most people don’t. He’s not going to judge you, alright?”

Remus let out a breath, then nodded. “Alright.” He wasn’t entirely comfortable now, but he wanted to be. So he would try. It was the best he could do.

*** 

Remus went with Lily to the class, leaving him an hour to warm up with a fresh canvas. Instead of drawing things he knew, he decided to try and envision the small sprog James and Lily would produce. He knew there was no way the child wouldn’t have James’ hair—it was too strong, too encompassing. And likely Lily’s fierce eyes, and James’ dark skin. He drew the baby in a small cradle, hanging from flowered branches off a massive willow. His watercolour pencils left harsh lines, which he smoothed out with the edges of a wet brush, and just as he was getting finished, he felt a presence behind him.

Normally he’d be furious that someone was watching, but when he saw Sirius’ sharp profile, all irritation faded into the background.

“They told you, then?”

Remus inclined his head just once. “This morning. Thought I’d put in my predictions before the baby’s born.”

“Predictions?”

Remus laughed a little as he shrugged. “Who the baby’s going to look like most.” He shrugged and nodded toward the painting, but realised Sirius was frowning at it. “You don’t agree?”

“Well erm…” Sirius reached up, tugging on the end of his long fringe which was hanging just over his cheek. “Can I tell you a secret, Moons?”

Remus nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m colour-blind.”

“Colour-blind,” Remus repeated, staring at Sirius’ eyes as though he were unable to stop himself.

Sirius shuffled his feet a bit, tugging on his fringe again. “It’s called achromatopsia. It’s total colour-blindness.”

“As in all shades of grey?” Remus asked, and Sirius nodded. “I…oh. Oh.”

Picking at his nails, Sirius didn’t meet Remus’ eyes. “It was from a head injury when I was six. The doctors all thought it might correct itself at some point but…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Never did. I became obsessed with finding artists who didn’t rely on colour to get their point across, where it wasn’t necessary. Hadn’t found one until you, Moons.”

Remus swallowed. “But…I paint in colour.”

“But you don’t rely on it. You…everything you do is shades, like other artists. But you rely on the shapes and shadows, on contours and sharp lines, and faded lines. It’s beautiful. It’s the first time an artist has really spoken to me. Lily has books upon books of your sketches, charcoal and pencil and they’re meant to be black and white—the way I see things. And I…” He pursed his lips. “They’re all lovely.”

Remus reached out, grabbing Sirius’ fidgeting hand, and he squeezed the fingers. Rarely in his life did he initiate contact like this. Rarely in his life did he seek it out like this, but it felt right. At least in that moment, and Sirius didn’t pull away.

Before long, though, Sirius was called to the centre of the room as students began to arrive. Remus watched him, the way his legs moved through the calf-length skirt he was wearing, and how tight the long sleeves hugged his defined arms. His feet were bare this time—they were smallish, the toes painted a fierce red, and he kept them slightly pointed as he eased himself up onto the stool. His hair was tied high against the back of his head in a messy bun, strands sticking every which way, but it fit him almost perfectly.

Remus wasted no time getting to work, sketching him with strong, dark lines at the pointed end of his block of charcoal.

This time, Remus didn’t leave the room before class was over. He lost himself in the drawing, paying no mind when Lily called the class to an end, and Sirius moved from the stool. He kept going until his arm ached and he was satisfied.

A warm breath of air on his cheek is what drew him away, and the whispered, “Blimey,” over his shoulder. “You did that in forty minutes?”

Remus swiped his blackened fingers on a bit of wet kitchen paper, and shrugged. “I could do better if I had more time.”

“Better?” Sirius let out a choked laugh. “I can’t even being to envision something better than this.”

A small smile flit across Remus’ mouth as he dared a look over. Sirius was staring at the sketch, awe on his face, his head shaking back and forth just a little. “Well, I suppose we’ll see what I can come up with after we get a few sessions in at mine.”

Sirius’ grin widened. “Tomorrow sound alright to you? I’m doing the nude bit here, then we can go back to yours. You coming to that?”

Remus nodded. “Planned on it. I don’t due nudes in private sessions. It’s too…feels too invasive.”

Sirius shrugged. “Well it doesn’t bother me any, but I’m happy to give you whatever you need.” He squeezed Remus’ wrist before letting go. “So we’ll be doing dinner and drinks at my cousin’s place, alright?”

Remus frowned as he put everything back in his art case, shoving it off to the side for the next day’s lesson. That done, he pulled the earlier water-colour drawing he’d done of the baby, and carefully slipped into his pack to give Lily and James later that night. “I thought we were going out for drinks?”

“She’s got a restaurant. Thai place. It’s brilliant, really.” Sirius leant on the side of the wall near the window as Remus finished packing up. “She was like me, banished from the aristocratic shit-hole of a society my family all belonged to. They’ve always been over-eager to deny our Thai side, you know? Embrace the English or whatever. So she stole our long-buried family recipes and decided she’d open up a place.”

Remus’ grin was wide. “Really? I mean, that’s a pretty damned brilliant act of rebellion.”

“I learnt from the best,” Sirius said, shrugging. “Anyway of course it’s all modernised and everything, not completely traditional food, but it’s good. Andi’s brilliant in the kitchen, and she’s been furious with me for not coming to see her before now.”

Remus used another wet kitchen paper to scrub the black from his fingers. “How long were you gone for?”

“Seven years,” Sirius said, and Remus coughed a little. With a chuckle, Sirius shrugged and plucked the dirty paper from Remus’ fingers, tossing it into the bin. “I needed to find myself, figure shit out. I didn’t come from the best home and even after the Potters took me in, I wasn’t ever…you know…better? But I missed James and Lily. I missed home.”

“Did it help?” Remus asked quietly as he hitched his pack up on his shoulder. Lily was waiting for them at the end of the hall, but Sirius told her to go on and meet them at Andi’s.

“Remus can go with me!”

Lily shrugged, and when Remus didn’t argue, she headed out of the building, leaving the two to walk slowly out to the car park.

“I suppose. I’m profoundly more lucky than a lot of people trying to recover from abuse. I had a lot of money—still have a lot of money. One of my uncles took pity on me and left me his small fortune and flat when he died.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “I could see how that would be helpful.”

Sirius chuckled as he palmed his keys. “I tried to pretend like nothing was wrong for years. James could tell but he refused to push me. I think he was well pissed off for years after I left. But you know how he gets. Wants to help everyone.”

Remus let out a puff of air. “Yeah, that I understand. Some people need it though.”

Sirius gave him a careful look. “I know. He told me.”

Feeling his cheeks go hot, Remus looked away. “It’s getting better. He’s really good at what he does, fucking brilliant, in fact. This time last year I was well…much worse. There needs to be more therapists like him out there, willing to try newer coping mechanisms and not relying solely on meds as some fix.”

“Or making people think there _is_ something that needs to be fixed,” Sirius pointed out. “Instead of accepting that this is part of who we are, and we just have to live differently.”

Remus felt his throat tighten suddenly, because it was the first time someone had said those words to him like that. Words he had always wanted to hear because he never did believe he could get better. Because he was bi-polar and it wasn’t going to go away. There was no magic fix. There were just ways to cope, and ways to help himself through the harder times.

“I…” He didn’t finish what he was about to say, as they approached a rather shiny, chrome motorbike. “This is yours?”

“You don’t mind, do you? I’m an amazing driver.”

Remus swallowed thickly, but shook his head. “No, I don’t mind. Never been on one but…”

“You trust me?” Sirius held out a hand, and Remus took it very carefully. “I won’t let you get hurt.”

He waited for Sirius to ease himself on, then climbed behind the shorter model before putting his arms round Sirius’ waist. He squeezed tight, listening to the rumble of Sirius’ laugh as the bike roared to life under them. Sirius took off at a slow pace, increasing as they got into traffic, but Remus felt safe, which was very, very new.

They eventually reached a small restaurant not far from Lily’s school, and just outside the doors Remus spotted James and Lily waiting, coats pulled tight round them. Remus felt a tingling in his arse, and Sirius laughed as he watched Remus shake out his legs a little.

“You get used to it,” Sirius said with a small wink.

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’ll be making a habit of it, then?”

Instead of answering, Sirius merely grinned, extending his hand toward Remus and pulled him along to the doors. James and Lily gave the pair a knowing look, which Remus chose to ignore in favour of stepping inside the small restaurant. Being that it was a Wednesday, the place was near to empty aside from the take-away queue which had four or five people stood waiting for orders.

The place itself was small, only a smattering of tables, the walls decorated with minimalist décor, and the air was full of intense spices. Behind the counter was a tall man, dark skin and a big smile. When he looked over at the group walking in, he grinned. 

“Oy there! Andi said you’d be in!”

“Hey Ted,” James said with a nod. “Alright if we just sit?”

“Course. She’ll be right out.” 

“That’s Andi’s husband,” Sirius explained as he ushered the group toward the larger table. “One of the reasons she got chucked out of the family. Poor and not white. I hate my family so much.”

Remus pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything as he reached for a chair. Just as he pulled it out, a movement out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. A short woman with black hair pulled into a severe bun, and a face that greatly resembled Sirius, stormed out. She looked murderous as she fixed eyes on Sirius.

“Sawasdee khrup,” Sirius said, putting his hands into prayer and bowing his head a little.

Instead of answering him, she thwaped him upside the head, then yanked him into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “How dare you be in town for a full month and not come and see me!”

Sirius’ cheeks were a bit pink as he scratched back of his neck. “Well, I was getting sorted. And you have to forgive me. I brought Lily and James. Who by the way have news for you.” He leant over. “Quickly before she kills me.”

Lily rolled her eyes as she opened her arms to Andi. “We’re having a baby!”

Andi’s eyes went wide. “What? Are you joking? Finally? After all this time!”

Remus found it a small wonder he’d known Lily and James for so long, and there were still parts of their life he hadn’t known about. He felt a bit uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other until Sirius grabbed his hand and yanked him over.

“And this is Remus. He’s the one who’s done all of James and Lily’s art.”

Andi’s gaze fixed on him. “You’re the one who did the anniversary painting?”

Remus flushed a bit. “Er. That was me, yes.”

“Amazing,” Andi breathed. “Stick round after, yeah? We need to talk about sprucing this place up.”

“Thanks for asking if he even does commissions, you brat,” Sirius called after her.

Andi stuck her chin in the air. “Shut it, or there will be no family discount. Are we all doing milk teas to start?”

“And beer. For me and Sirius,” James called as he gestured for everyone to sit. “Pete cancelled. He’s on a date, but he said he’ll come out later this week.”

No one seemed fussed about Peter being missing, and Remus was secretly grateful because the more people that were around, the more he succumbed to sensory overload. As it was, he was beyond thrilled the restaurant was almost empty, the music was low, the lights were soft.

Sirius quickly took the lead when it came to ordering, talking to the server in Thai which amazed Remus. His accent was incredibly posh—like Buckingham Palace posh—so listening to him slip into what Remus assumed was his mother tongue, was something to behold. It reminded him a bit of his mother, screaming at him in Hebrew when she was so frustrated she couldn’t remember English at all.

It had been ages since he thought of that, and it made his gut twist a little.

But soon enough there was food, all of it vegetarian, all of it spicy but in the best way. The tea was amazing, filled with jelly balls of boba which Remus had never experienced before. He and Lily stuck to the tea, whilst James and Sirius used their pints to toast the incoming sprog created by the Potters.

Before they decided to call it a night, Remus carefully removed the portrait of the baby he did and passed it over. “Of course we won’t know for sure until the sprog is here,” Remus said as Lily and James leant over the drawing, “but…for now…”

“This is…” James cleared his throat, and got up, walking round the table to grab Remus into a hug. “Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you?”

Remus flushed and smiled. “Too often, Jamie.”

James cupped his cheek and met Remus’ gaze. “You’re going to be the best uncle, you know that? My kid is going to have the best people in their life.”

Remus got a watery kiss from Lily who almost screamed when she learnt Remus had done the drawing in the hour warmup he had before class. They chatted a bit longer, then decided to take their leave, everyone ready to turn in for the night.

“So, give you a lift home? That way I’ll know where to go tomorrow?”

Remus looked over at James and Lily who were grinning, and he wanted to lose himself in the feeling spreading out into his limbs straight from his gut. Because it had been so long he’d properly fancied someone who seemed to like him back.

But it was dangerous. When Sirius saw what it was like—the ugly side, the horrifying scars of his past and just how far from alright he could be some days—he’d run. Just like all the others. Remus wasn’t sure he had the strength to take another heartache like that. And for as often as Lily and Sirius both insisted Sirius would understand what it was like, no one really knew. No one was ever really prepared for the ugly truth.

And yet Remus found himself nodding and climbing onto the back of Sirius’ bike and giving soft directions in his ear. They arrived at Remus’ flat where he climbed down, somewhat grateful that Sirius hadn’t killed the engine because Remus was sure he wouldn’t be able to tell Sirius no to a cup of tea. Or more.

“Tomorrow?”

Remus smiled. “Yes.”

Reaching out, Sirius grabbed his hand and pressed Remus’ knuckles to his lips. They were a little chapped from the wind, and cold, but it sent a shock of heat shooting up his arm. “I can’t wait. Night Moonbeam, have sweet dreams.”

Remus felt his throat tighten so much he couldn’t speak, instead giving Sirius a shy wave before heading back up to his. He didn’t want to fancy him, he didn’t have the strength, but with a sort of quiet resignation Remus Lupin realised it was already far too late.

*** 

When Remus arrived to class, there were already a handful of people there looking excited and a little anxious. Sirius was there as well, stood by Lily’s desk in a very silky, long purple dressing gown covered in small white flowers. When Remus got in, Sirius turned and gave him a soft, brilliant smile.

“Moons,” he said softly as he crossed the room. He glanced over at the two people on the end who were snickering a little, and he rolled his eyes. “You know, even in the advance classes there’s always a few of those.”

“They’re just nervous,” Remus said quietly, though he couldn’t help his smile at the sight of their blushing cheeks.

“Are you just nervous?” Sirius asked, leaning over his canvas.

“No.” Remus met his gaze. “I’m not afraid of the naked human body. And yours is definitely inspirational.”

“Oh? And you would know how?”

“James has naked pictures,” Remus said, lying but from the look on Sirius’ face, he realised it was a possibility. 

“He _doesn’t_.”

“He might,” Remus said with a laugh. “But I haven’t seen them. I have respect for my fellow humans.” Unable to stop himself, he reached out and touched Sirius’ shoulder, feeling the incredibly soft silk under the pads of his fingers. “But it doesn’t actually matter what you look like under there. You’re body is still inspiring.”

Sirius’ grin was brighter than before, and he bit down on his bottom lip. “I can’t wait to see what you get up to when you’re in your comfort zone, Moony. I just…it’s going to be something incredible.”

Remus looked down at his canvas, at his hands and wondered if it was true. His mind could fail him at any moment, could sink lower than he could catch it, and then what? But he wouldn’t give in yet. Not now. “See you later, yeah?”

Sirius nodded, and went back over to Lily until the class was set to begin.

Lily had him lounging this time, on a couple of small poufs she’d pulled from her storage cupboard. It kept Sirius looking a little modest, though he was full frontal for the most part, but unashamed and—as Remus knew he would be—incredibly beautiful. His limbs were muscular, wider shoulders than Remus thought he’d have, and a curve to his waist which made for fantastic lines.

Instead of creating one big picture, Remus committed every inch of bare skin to memory, taking time to sketch the curve in Sirius’ hip, the dip in his waist, the hollow of his throat. His chest was wide, broad ribs like he had been a singer at one point with expansive lungs, and there was almost no hair there at all.

When it was over, Remus packed his things away before Sirius could get a look at it, wanting to save it until he could use what he’d learnt of Sirius’ body for his real work.

The class left rather quickly, most of them having gotten over their initial embarrassment and anxiety, though a few still snickered every time Sirius looked their way. Lily was gathering her things, looking a bit off-colour, and Remus headed over to her side.

“You alright?”

“Oh fine, just the baby seems to think it’s a fun game to make sure I can’t keep anything down. I think I’m going to go make best mates with a toilet, then head home—hopefully before I ruin the fresh scent of my car.”

Sirius pulled a face. “Bad luck, Lils. You want me to ring Prongs?”

“Nah. He’s stuck in appointments until late since he’s taking Friday next off. I’ll be alright, really.” She gave each of their cheeks a pat before locking up, and she turned toward the toilets as Remus and Sirius headed for the car park.

“So glad I don’t have a uterus,” Sirius muttered as he got his keys out. “Though if I did, there’s no fucking way I’d grow a baby in there.”

“Not ever?” Remus asked. “Is it the growing the baby part, or the kid part?”

“Definitely the growing part. I think kids are fairly lovely. Wouldn’t mind having a sprog or two someday. I’d like to adopt though. God forbid I unleash any more of my genes into the world.”

Remus sighed. “I know what you mean. I can’t imagine putting one of my kids at risk for…for this.” He waved his hand near his head, pulling a face.

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. Especially because he knew it was true. Being bi-polar didn’t make Remus less valid—he knew that most days, but to put a child at risk for that type of struggle…?

“Come on, let’s hurry. It’s bloody freezing out here,” Sirius said, switching on the bike.

Remus climbed up behind him like he always belonged there, and before long they were racing toward Remus’ flat. 

*** 

An hour later and two cups of tea in, Remus and Sirius were in the small studio. Sirius was sat on several cushions against the wall, one knee cocked up with his forearm resting over it. He was grinning at Remus who was knelt in front of him, tongue pressed to the tip of a canine, eyes all-but drinking him in.

“This could get invasive,” Remus said in his softest tone.

Sirius chuckles low under his breath. “I told you it was alright. You can look and touch all you want. Work your magic, Moons.”

With a trembling hand, Remus reached over and ran the tips of his fingers over Sirius’ jaw, then along his lips. He traced his soft nose, then up along his eyebrows. Sirius’ eyes fluttered closed as Remus ghosted the edge of his nail over his long, black lashes, then dragged his fingers through Sirius’ hair which had long since come out of the messy bun.

With reverence, Remus lifted Sirius’ arm, holding it out as he pushed up the sleeve of his long shirt and traced the lines in the crook of his elbow, down to his wrist and again over his palm. He traced the knuckles, pressing hard over each one and feeling the bones there as he drank in the sight of him.

“Gorgeous,” Remus breathed, then blushed but he was unapologetic. “I expect you’re told that a lot.”

“Yes, but rarely for someone who isn’t trying to use it for their personal gain.”

“You don’t think using you as my model to potentially make loads of money off your image isn’t personal gain?” Remus teased.

Sirius’ cheeks went pink. “Not the personal gain I was referring to.”

Remus reached out, cupping his hand against the side of Sirius’ cheek and let his thumb ghost over his sharp cheekbones. “Ah.”

“I’m demisexual, not sure if James or Lily mentioned.”

Remus licked his lips. “No. They didn’t tell me much about you. That seems like information they wouldn’t readily share with a stranger.”

“You’re their best friend,” Sirius pointed out.

“But I didn’t know you,” Remus breathed. He sat back a little, letting the edge of his thumb trace the crook in Sirius’ knee, heading along his thigh but stopping before he got to the curve of his arse.

“Well I am. I’m not ashamed. I don’t fall in love easy, either. It’s easier for me to display myself, let people look, but I don’t do things like this a lot because people always want more.”

“And you trust I don’t?” Remus challenged, because in truth, he fancied Sirius already, and he wouldn’t say no to more. Even if it was hand-holding, or a walk in the park. Or just another cup of tea—he really didn’t care.

“I think I might not entirely mind if you wanted more,” Sirius confessed.

Remus let out a puff of air, then sat back on his heels and carefully rose. “Mind staying like that for a little bit? I want to work on a few angles.”

“Anything you like, Moons.”

Remus flushed, but turned his back to Sirius and attempted to gather his bearings. This was no time to be chatting him up. This was no time to be having feelings. If Sirius was right, then it wouldn’t just be Remus who got hurt when Sirius realised what an absolute _chore_ Remus was. And he couldn’t bear it. Not the thought of hurting himself, and not the thought of hurting Sirius.

He would need to tread more carefully from now on.

*** 

A week later, Remus had been doing alright, but he slipped into a manic state after his third time having Sirius over. It was the inspiration, and he knew it was a trigger, getting into a project the way he did with Sirius. A part of him, residing deep in the back of his mind, hated that the very thing that made his blood flow—the art, the desire to create—could spiral out of control so badly.

But he wasn’t thinking and he didn’t care. His body was humming and excited. He was happy. He wanted to simultaneously shout from the rooftops that a person as gorgeous and all-consuming as Sirius Black let Remus touch him and caress him and wanted to spend time with him. That he had privy to secrets and insight into the person Sirius was when no other artist did—and he also wanted to lock himself away in the studio and paint for days. Maybe decades. Maybe forever.

He went with the latter, switching off his mobile, locking his front door, and letting himself go. He didn’t sleep much, didn’t eat. He had pills he ignored, and his body was shaking with need to just put Sirius on the canvas where he belonged. The way he belonged.

The crash happened without Remus realising it. It hit hard and fast, and he came to sat in the bathroom surrounded by smoke. He was sobbing, page after page of his sketchbooks burning in the bottom of the tub. There was a figure there, taking his arm, pulling him from the bathroom as he shouted at them to just leave him there. He was worthless. Let him burn with those pages of pathetic attempts to be a worthy artist because he never would be.

Firm, thin hands pushed him onto the edge of his bed, and then whoever it was had gone. Windows were open, he could feel the pressure change, feel the cool air which shocked him out of his panic, and he pressed himself against the wall, his hands flying up to cover his face.

“Hey, Remus. Hey let go of your face, love.” The voice was soothing, not James or Lily, and Remus sucked in his breath as his hands were tugged down and Sirius was crouched in front of him.

A wet, very warm flannel began to mop his face, scrubbing away tear tracks and snot under his nose. He felt coated in soot, the smell of burnt paper overwhelming him. It was in his clothes in his hair, and he looked down to see angry, raw scratches along his forearms over his scars.

Sirius noticed, and carefully covered them with the palm of his hand. “Do you need ointment?”

Throat raw, Remus let out a small moan as he shook his head. He could hear water running, and guessed Sirius was putting out the flames. “What are you doing here?” he rasped.

“James sent me. I think he knew. Been trying to reach you for days.” Sirius lifted one hand, then paused. “Can I touch you, Re?”

Remus wanted nothing more, craved nothing more, than human contact. It would be grounding, and he ached for it. “Please,” he said, hating himself a little more because it felt so weak.

“You burnt the sketches you did of me.” Sirius dragged his thumb along Remus’ cheek.

“Not all of them,” Remus said, his throat burning. “Just the…” He stopped and turned his face away.

“You should have a shower. Come on, I’ve got the tub sorted and you can clean the smoke off you. I’ve got the kettle going and I stopped by Andi’s so there’s hot soup. Think you can stomach some? When’s the last time you ate?”

Remus allowed Sirius to pull him up, feeling tired and pliant with absolutely no fight left in him. What was the point? Sirius had now seen him at his worst. There was no telling how long Sirius had actually been in the flat, how much he’d seen.

“I don’t know,” Remus confessed. “What day is it?”

“It’s Friday, love.”

Remus furrowed his brow as Sirius eased him into the doorway of the bathroom. “Maybe two days? I think I had tea? Maybe a biscuit. I can’t…can’t remember.”

“It’s alright,” Sirius said, speaking right up against the crook of Remus’ neck. “Go shower. Meet me in the lounge when you’re done. James told me how to find your meds and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Remus wondered vaguely why it was Sirius here. Why James and Lily hadn’t come when they were so worried. Maybe this was the start of it? They were pawning him off on other people because she was pregnant and probably—more than likely—they were getting tired of Remus slipping. His meds helped, but not always. Not all the time. And he couldn’t blame them, of course. How could he? He couldn’t begin to imagine caring for a person like himself.

He forced himself to wash, using the last of the soap he had in the small dish. He scrubbed at his smoky hair, seeing black tendrils inside the water as it drained away. He tried to ignore the scorch marks on the walls of the tub, not surprised at what he’d done, but hating it all the same.

When he felt clean enough, he carefully eased out, wrapped a towel round his body, and went to change. His softest pyjamas had been laid out on his bed, and Remus noticed through the side of the hall, his studio along with his bedroom had been tidied.

He vaguely recalled him breaking down when he couldn’t get a particular line right, a look in Sirius’ eye that he wanted to capture and he had cracked. He remembered the feeling like he was a joke, that Sirius would take one look at the painting and regret ever agreeing to sit for Remus.

He scratched at himself, cried, then burnt everything he could fit into the tub.

His face hot with shame, he walked into the lounge and found Sirius on the sofa waiting with a heavy duvet, a tray with two bowls of soup, tea on the table, and his pill bottles. “Eat first,” Sirius said, patting the cushion next to him. “And I can give you space if you like. If you don’t want me so close.”

Remus blinked, then shook his head as he carefully took the empty space next to Sirius. “No it’s…fine. Thank you. You didn’t have to…”

“I don’t mind,” Sirius said in a rush. “Believe me, if you knew how often James and Lily picked my arse up after a PTSD trigger…” He trailed off and shook his head, carefully easing the bowl into Remus’ hands. “The soup’s a little spicy, but not too bad. I told Andi your stomach needed something easy, so there’s loads of ginger in there. And some coconut milk, I think.”

Remus took one sip and his eyes widened. In spite of feeling like complete and utter shit, he gave Sirius a careful smile. “This is amazing.”

“Thought you might enjoy it. It always helped perk me up.”

Remus looked at him carefully and wondered how bad it had been for Sirius. He seemed unfazed by Remus’ breakdown and it was possible—very possible in fact—that Sirius had gone through similar things. Maybe still did. He sipped the broth a bit more, chewing on a few of the whole, stewed herbs floating round. They were refreshing, giving his body a bit more vigour than he was used to having after attacks like this.

“Do they still happen?”

“PTSD triggers?” Sirius asked, and he gave a slow nod. “Not as often as they used to. I’ve had a lot of therapy, and I’m not on meds anymore, but I was for a long time. But I get violent anxiety attacks, dissociation, things like that. They were so bad I thought I was having fits until I saw a neurologist.” Sirius let out a small sigh, running his fingers back through his hair. “I read up on what you’ve got—what you go through. It’s not the same, but I understand it. Not completely but…”

“I’m sorry,” Remus burst out, trying not to cry. He managed to keep the tears from falling, but his throat was tight. “I never meant you to see…”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Sirius asked.

Remus gulped, then nodded. “I thought…I mean I think…so. I think so.”

“I think so, too.” Sirius reached over, carefully wrapping his long fingers round the back of Remus’ neck, letting his thumb caress the skin there. “It’s probably no secret I fancy you, but I’m happy with whatever you’re willing to be with me. Friends. Acquaintances. Artist-slash-model.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh, and his stomach flip-flopped. “Well I’d like to think we’re a bit more than the last.”

“Good.” Sirius carefully met his gaze before dropping it, and Remus was grateful as he wasn’t ready to hold such intense eye contact just yet. “I want to help. However I can. To be here for you.”

“Why?” Remus blurted.

“Because you’re worth it,” Sirius replied, as though it was the easiest answer in all the universe. “Because you’re fucking lovely and I knew that the moment I saw you. Maybe I’m mad, but I usually trust my gut instincts and they told me you were something I shouldn’t let go of. And I’m sorry if that puts you off.”

“No I…it…doesn’t.” Remus fought back a yawn, but Sirius caught it and took the bowl from his fingers. He pressed his pills into his hand, then gave the tea over. Remus swallowed them down, and then leant his head back onto the cushion and closed his eyes. “I fancy you too. This might not be the best time to discuss this.”

“I know,” Sirius said. He gave Remus a gentle push toward the pillow he’d set up, and gave a surprised gasp when Remus pulled him down. “You want a cuddle?”

“Unless that’s…”

Sirius silenced him with a finger pressed to Remus’ lips. “It’s perfect,” Sirius whispered. He carefully eased one arm round Remus’ waist and let Remus bury his face in the crook of his neck. “This is perfect, okay. I _want_ this.”

Remus couldn’t help the slight, choked sob because for all that James and Lily had been amazing, he never got this. And god did he crave it. He tightened his grip on Sirius, wondering when he’d become so bold, but maybe Sirius was on to something. Maybe this was different and special and wonderful.

“We can talk in the morning, alright?” Sirius murmured against the side of Remus’ head. “But for now we could both do with sleep and comfort.” He pressed a soft kiss to Remus’ curls, and before long, their breathing matched, long and slow, and they drifted off to sleep.

*** 

Waking alone, for a moment Remus thought maybe it was a dream. He had never hallucinated before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. Then he heard low, raspy singing in the kitchen, and it all came flooding back. The all-night cuddles, the rescue from his crash, the soup, the tea. The soft kisses pressed to his temples.

Remus eased himself from the sofa, walking into the kitchen to find Sirius pouring water into mugs which were sat next to a tray of croissants. He turned when Remus entered, his smile looking absolutely delighted which surprised Remus. 

“Hi you.” He crossed the distance between them, putting his hands on the tops of Remus’ shoulders. “Can I give you a little morning kiss?”

Remus flushed, but nodded shyly as Sirius brought their faces together. Warm, dry lips brushed across his own, and Remus felt his whole body light up. “That’s…wow. One way to wake up.”

Sirius smiled, pressing their foreheads together, nudging Remus’ nose with his own. “How are you feeling?”

“Spri—er I mean good. I’m good.”

“Seasons,” Sirius said quietly as he pulled away from Remus to mind the tea. Rummaging through the cabinets, he found the honey, and put the soya milk on the table with the croissants. “If you want to tell me what they mean, you can use them.”

“It’s just something James and I came up with,” Remus said, carefully stirring honey into his tea. “Each of the words sort of…sort of represents what state of mind I’m in. Then everyone around me knows which triggers to avoid.”

“Hm. Might need to write it down.”

Remus laughed as Sirius took a seat very close to him. “I think James has all the notes.” What he didn’t express was his surprise that instead of being put off by how much work it could be, he was asking for ways he could learn. Remus was afraid to let it mean something just yet, but after last night, his resolve was crumbling.

“Of course he does. He’s such a swot,” Sirius said with a grin over his tea. “I erm…I have to tell you something though, but I didn’t want to tell you last night.”

The sudden turn in the conversation and the shift in Sirius’ tone set Remus on edge. “Alright.” He set his mug down and looked over at Sirius.

“Lily started bleeding yesterday afternoon. James had to take her in to A&E and she’s being observed for the next few days.” At the news, Remus’ entire body went cold with shock until Sirius reached over and took his hand. “She’s alright, and so is the baby. They said it’s fairly normal to have bleeding with a first pregnancy, and they just want to make sure there’s nothing they missed before letting her go back home.”

Letting out a breath, Remus dropped his head. “Shit.”

“That’s why James didn’t come. He asked me to tell you he’s so sorry and…”

“What?” Remus all-but snapped, and Sirius pulled his hand away quickly at the tone. “His wife is bleeding and in hospital and he’s apologising to _me_.”

“It’s James, mate,” Sirius said very quietly. “You know how he is. He loves fiercely, and you’re no exception. Lily actually tried to send him over anyway, at one point.”

Feeling his stomach clench, Remus pushed his forehead to the top of the table. “I feel like a total burden.”

“You’re not,” Sirius replied, a fierceness in his tone which made Remus lift his head up. “I felt that way for a long time. I felt like I didn’t deserve their love or support, that I had to do it myself. But I don’t. And you don’t. I fancy the fuck out of you, Remus, and I have never been more glad that I decided to come home.”

Remus’ cheeks went suspiciously hot and he tried to look away from those grey eyes, but couldn’t. “It just feels so…”

“I know.” Sirius reached over again, this time grabbing Remus by the back of his neck and pulled him in close. “I know better than you think I do. And I’m not saying you have to believe me. Just accept I won’t stop reminding you that you are worthy of it. Of attention and love and support.”

“You barely know me,” Remus whispered.

“I’m getting there,” Sirius said very quietly, and pressed a kiss to the tip of Remus’ nose. “If you’ll let me, anyway.”

Remus carefully reached up and cupped Sirius’ cheek, letting his hand press hard against the warm skin. “I think…I think I’d like that Sirius.”

His smile bloomed wide across his face. “Good.”

*** 

Lily was released in a week, sent home on bedrest, and in the next several weeks Remus finished his painting. He went back to his therapist who ordered a change in his dosage, and after only a few days, he noticed a slight difference. It was just enough to give him better warning which allowed him to put his friends and—he still wasn’t over the thrill of this—his partner on alert.

He had a few episodes, some Sirius saw, and some he didn’t. But he was supportive as ever, reminding Remus that he was loved not in spite of his condition, but as a whole being. They shared their first kiss, Sirius initiating all of the intimate contact between them so no boundaries were crossed, three weeks after that when Remus finished the painting.

He unveiled it in his lounge, propping it up on his sofa. “Can you describe the colours?” Sirius asked, staring in awe.

Remus grinned, shaking his head. “No.”

Sirius blinked at him. “Moons, it doesn’t bother me. Really it…”

“It’s painted in greys, love. Like old black and white telly. So the entire world will look at you, the way you can look at yourself in the mirror and everyone will be on even footing.”

Sirius’ eyes went misty and wide, then he grabbed Remus by the face and slowly kissed him. It wasn’t chaste, but it was slow and careful, their tongues touching, Remus fisting his hands in the front of Sirius’ loose black dress.

“You are…there aren’t even words, Moonbeam. You are _everything_.”

Remus mashed their noses together, nuzzling him for a moment and basking in just how amazing Sirius was. “So are you,” he breathed.

Sirius cupped Remus’ cheek, then looked back at the painting, staring at it for so long. “This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Remus pulled Sirius to him, back to Remus’ front, and held him round the waist. “You don’t need colours to be beautiful, Sirius. You’re the most amazing person I have ever met.”

He looked at his own work. He’d drawn Sirius wearing something similar to the dress he had on now, lounged back with his feet out, crossed at the ankles. His arms were behind him, supporting him in a half-recline, his head back just enough so his hair was hanging an inch above the floor. He’d painted it so it had the appearance of sunlight filtering across his skin, glinting off his eyes, his mouth curved into the smirk Remus loved most of all.

It wasn’t perfect. No amount of talent could capture exactly what Sirius was, but he’d come close and he’d never been prouder.

“Is it horribly vain to want to hang this up in my lounge so everyone who ever comes to mine will see it?”

Remus laughed, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Sirius’ neck. “Not when you look as beautiful as you do.”

Sirius laughed, reaching up a hand to cup the side of Remus’ face. “Maybe someday we can hang it in ours.”

Remus felt his breath suck in hard, because they’d only been dating a few weeks. It didn’t mean he hadn’t felt it, or want it because god how he wanted it. But for all that Sirius had been amazing, he hadn’t figured his partner was entirely interested just yet. Or ever.

“Was that too much? Too fast?”

Remus was shaking his head hard, holding on to Sirius tighter. “No I…yes. God. Yes I would…” He stopped and cleared his throat, holding Sirius just a bit tighter. “I’d love nothing more.”

“Good,” Sirius said. “Because whilst I’m going to love the hell out of my god-sprog, I’m not interested in being woken at all hours of the night. Unless we’re babysitting, of course, and then we can give the baby back and kip all day.”

“We?” Remus asked teasingly.

“Practise,” Sirius said very softly as he turned in Remus’ arms. “If you’re interested.”

Remus blinked down at Sirius, then pushed their noses together to repeat, “I’d love nothing more.”


End file.
